SON OF THE WIND
began to feel irritated. "I wonder if you have heard the facts?"
"I have heard enough."
"For instance?"
"I have heard about the horse."
With the word everything, even Rader's aspect, had become serious. "What horse?" he said coldly.
"The wild horse."
He looked at her steadily. He felt that if his eyes wavered an instant something in his mind would waver too, and lose grasp of the situation. A dozen thoughts were struggling there for first place. "Did that boy George tell you?"
"It wasn't George. It was Bert."
He almost shouted at her. "He couldn't!"
"Why? Did you think he was loyal to you?" she asked.
Carron didn't hear her sarcasm, her triumph; heard nothing but the preposterous fact. He shot a glance into the past and saw the passionate futile figure of the man on the road that he had laughed at. That fellow immolated in confession, blazing up at the last with courage enough to dash down his own hope with his rival's? Admirable desperation, who could have dreamed he had that much in him! Carron could have sworn he knew his man to the hilt. He couldn't imagine how Ferrier could have looked
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